


Help You Treat Your Wounds

by black_rose4



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6084312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_rose4/pseuds/black_rose4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commission for someone over on my tumblr. They wanted some post-battle comfort with their Sole Survivor Johnnie and Preston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help You Treat Your Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturniansky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=saturniansky).



The trip back to Castle takes longer than usual that day. Johnnie’s gained a limp which is slowing her down tremendously, though she’s too stubborn to simply admit it to Preston, who has had to slow his pace to match hers in order to continue her stubborn charade. They both know she has wounds that need treating, and not just whatever damage has been done to her leg, but until they make it back to Castle they can’t say for sure they’re safe enough to stop and rest and tend to those wounds of hers. Her current state of injury is a common occurrence, even more so lately, so neither of the pair make comment on it as they slowly hobble back to base. 

When they finally get there they head straight for Johnnie’s quarters and fetch the first aid kid from the cupboard, along with any and all medical supplies they already have on their person. Johnnie strips down to her skivvies and eases herself onto a chair, ready for Preston to take a look at her and help with the wounds she can’t quite reach alone. 

She winces as he helps clean the blood and grime from her skin. They need to patch her up, but she’s covered in so much blood, only some of which is her own, that it’s hard to tell which wounds actually need tending to. 

“I think this is gonna leave a scar.” Preston inspects the wound on Johnnie’s leg, scowling as he does so. It looks worse than the rest of them. They have already begun to heal thanks to the stimpak she’d jabbed into her arm earlier on and are now a nice shade of fresh-skin pink. But this one still looks raw, red. 

Johnnie simply grunts and winces as he finishes cleaning the wound. “Like I don’t already have plenty of those. One more’s not gonna be an issue.” One look at Johnnie’s face is enough to see that she’s already received her lifetime’s worth of scars and then some: a scar down her cheek; a few more around her mouth; a burn on her other cheek. And those are just the tip of the iceberg. 

He’s always surprised at how well she handles pain, both during a fight and afterwards. These small moments though, the ones where she’s cursing and hissing through her teeth, remind him that she’s really not as indestructible as she seems to think. And it’s these moments that scare him the most. “Maybe…maybe you should care a little more about your own personal safety, Johnnie. Generally, you’re not supposed to want to gain scars, but avoid getting hurt in the first place.”

She resists the urge to snap at him and instead simply cocks her head at him. “Where is this coming from?” 

“You worry me, okay. You throw yourself into fights without a single care for yourself and come out beaten and bruised and bloody. I’ve spent a lot more time lately having to cover you in fights and watch your back because you’re not. And frankly I’m concerned.” He sets his cloth back in its dish and takes Johnnie’s hand in his. His voice is gentle when he speaks, comforting. “Is everything alright? Babe, you know you can talk to me.”

She says nothing for a long moment. The anger and pain on her face has softened into sadness and her eyes are wet with unshed tears which she refuses to let drop. Preston squeezes her hand, cooing soft words of encouragement and support to her. “It’s okay. It’s just me.” 

Finally, she breaks. “I’m scared.”

He squeezes her hand again. “About what?” 

Johnnie takes a deep breath to steady herself. She’s been keeping it all bottled up for so long, but there’s only so long you can delay the inevitable and it seems that at last it has caught up to her and is demanding her attention. “About going to the Institute. About what I’ll find there. It’s just - there’s so many unknowns and I’m just scared that whatever’s down there, I won’t like it. Or maybe I’ll like it too much.  _I don’t know_. I don’t know at all what’s going to happen and that scares the shit out of me.”

He squeezes her hand again, smiling softly, trying to reassure her. “Is there anything in particular about going there that scares you?” He already has his suspicions, but now he’s got her to start opening up he’s not planning on stopping her. 

“What if he’s not there? What if I get in there and Shaun isn’t there?” She sighs heavily, raking a hand through her hair. Her breath is shaky when she exhales again. “He’s all I have left of her – of us. I just – I need to find him, but what if he isn’t there? I don’t think I’m ready to find out the answer to that, Preston.” 

Preston sighs and nods, dragging another chair over and sitting beside her. He takes her hands in his again. “This is why you’ve been throwing yourself into your work so much. And into fights.” Johnnie hangs her head and nods. “Babe, why didn’t you say something to me?” 

She shrugs. “I dunno. I guess I thought I could deal with it. If I put it off long enough maybe - maybe things would magically work out… _somehow_.” Johnnie sighs and reaches into her pocket, rummaging around and bringing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She takes a cigarette for herself, throws the pack to Preston, then attempts to light up. Her hands shake more and more as she tries repeatedly to get a spark to ignite, but as the shakes get worse so too do her attempts. Finally, Preston takes the lighter from her. Johnnie holds her cigarette steady as he lights it for her, then inhales a deep calming breath. He lights up one of his own then waits until she’s calmed. He knows she’ll speak when she’s ready, and if not - well he’ll deal with that if they get to it. 

He watches her as she smokes. She’s come a long way from when he’d first met her. Before, she’d lash out at him when she was hurt like this. But he can tell she’s been trying to improve. She seems wearier now, less angry. Like everything is taking its toll on her. He knows that what she really needs is to find her closure, to find out what lies ahead in the Institute, but getting her to actually go has been proving harder than he’d thought it would be. 

He’s suspected she was avoiding going, but hearing her admit it is a big step for her. Now they can try and address this. Now they can figure out a proper plan of action, how to proceed forward. 

Johnnie doesn’t speak until her cigarette is burnt out and she’s lighting up another, hands steadier now than before. “I need to go to the Institute, don’t I?”

Preston nods. “‘Fraid so. You’ve put it off long enough babe.” 

“Any chance I can put it off a few more days? Go help a few more settlements, kill a few more raiders? No?” Preston presses his lips into a thin smile and shakes his head. “Damn. Well, it was worth a shot.” 

They both chuckle, their moods once again lifted. Preston squeezes her hand one more time before letting go and grabbing his bowl and cloth again. “Can I finish seeing to those wounds now?” Johnnie nods and he kneels before her, checking his existing work on her leg before picking up where he’d left off. “This is gonna sting.”

Johnnie grits her teeth as the solution touches her open wound.

* * *

She’s strangely quiet that night as they lay together in bed. It’s clear she has a lot on her mind and Preston is happy to leave her to her thoughts. Their conversation from earlier that day is still running through her mind and slowly but surely Johnnie is coming to terms with the fact that she really does have to enter the Institute to see if her son is in there, and if not, if she can at least find some closure for son and wife. 

Preston flicks through a Silver Shroud comic, only half paying attention to the words and images on each pages. He’s read this one countless times before, but it’s his favourite and go-to comic for easy reading. Not that he can focus all too well on reading right now, anxious to hear what Johnnie has to say, if anything at all. He hopes she does. 

She sets her book down when she’s ready and places it on the side, keeping hold of a few pieces of paper from inside of it. “Preston.” She knows he’s not really reading, but she says it anyway, to make sure she truly has his attention and buy herself a little more time. “I know what I need to do.” Johnnie places the pieces of paper on Preston’s lap. “Do you think Sturges can help with this? I need to build this to be able to get into the Institute - I know, it’s drawn in crayon, but stay with me, okay? It’s supposed to be the teleporter which will get me into the Institute. This is what I need, Preston. This will get me in there.”

She watches as he looks over the plans. She’s not sure if it’s the simple yet difficult to understand diagrams that have him stumped, or the fact it’s all in crayon, but she watches as his brow furrows and he bites his lip as he concentrates on trying to read Virgil’s plans. Finally, he gives in. He rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Man, looking at that makes my head hurt. I hope Sturges can make more sense of that than me.”

“Yeah, it’s a pain, right? I tried making sense of it and had to give up too.” 

Preston hands the plans back to her and Johnnie slips them back inside her book. He settles his arm around her shoulders when she sits back then kisses the top of her head. “I’m proud of you babe. You can do this. I know you can.” 

Johnnie hides her face from him, muttering her thanks under her breath. She’s still not used to this, him saying he’s proud of her, but the more good she does the more he says it, so slowly but surely she’s learning to accept his compliments. But it’s still not an easy thing for her. She can’t help but feel a pang of guilt which lingers with her, reminding her how much of a coward she’s been up until this point, which questions if she really deserves his pride, if she deserves him. She ignores the pang as best as she can and turns her face back to him when he kisses her cheek. His smile warms her heart and she can’t help but return it. 

“Come on, we should get some sleep.” 

She doesn’t protest as he starts settling down in bed, comic book now on the side. Sleep is calling to her and she is happy to answer it. She smiles as she closes her eyes to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around her.


End file.
